The first time I went to London, three friends and I recreated the Beatles album cover of Abbey Road. Then we went to the entrance of Apple records and had a look at the whitewall. It probably gets repainted once a year or something like that but quickly gets filled with fans' penned messages. My favorite was, "Yoko Ono?" She got blamed for the band break-up much like Valerie Bertinelli or Stevie Nix. Truth of the matter is that they were simply done being the Beatles. Each went onto semi-successful solo careers. Even Ringo and he must still think at least once a day how lucky he was that Pete Best kicked it early.
I didn't write anything on the wall, nor did I dump a bottle of wine out for Jim Morrison when I went to Pere La Che. I did once do a rubbing of James Marshall Hendrix headstone that hung framed for a while but has been lost to history. While all that music brings forth memories from various times in my life, none of them were favorites.
I never had a favorite until I heard Ween. I bought all the albums, went to shows, made vacations based on when they might be playing where. I love the sound, the silliness, and their refusal to hit the mainstream. Sure, Spongebob uses one of their tunes but they put vulgarities in songs just to keep them off the radio. That being said, you've heard their music on NPR. Pizza Hut approached them about creating a song for cheese-stuffed crust. The lyrics? "Where'd the cheese go? Ummm, I don't know" on a loop. Pizza Hut asked them to do it again and they refused.
Anywho, Ween broke up and here I am considering wearing all black until they get back together so I can skip the reunion tour out of spite.
Day seven. TRAGEDY STRIKES.
1 day ago